


Support

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018: Hurt/Comfort edition [15]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Illya is high as a kite once again after being given painkillers by Medical, and Napoleon is just used to this by now.





	Support

A drugged Illya was always a challenge for Napoleon, particularly when the drug was a THRUSH concoction that no one knew what it would cause. This time, however, it was a known medication that was doing a number on the Russian—a painkiller that he had needed after recovering from a THRUSH attack. Napoleon therefore knew exactly how Illya would react to it—by becoming overly clingy and emotional.

Napoleon had convinced Medical to let him take Illya home and look after him there—confident that the familiar surroundings would help in Illya getting over his high.

“‘Poleon…” Illya was saying, as Napoleon directed him to the bedroom.

“Yes?”

“Can’t we stop there?” he asked, pointing him to the direction of the kitchen.

“What for?” Napoleon asked.

“I want to get the copper kettle and make tea for you, ‘Poleon!” he exclaimed. “I know you enjoy my Russian tea!”

“And I do,” Napoleon assured him. “But this is not the time for you to be making tea for me or anyone! Perhaps, after you have recovered--”

“But I feel fine, ‘Poleon!”

He tried to go to the kitchen while Napoleon continued to try to lead him to the bedroom; this resulted in an ungainly pirouette session across the floor.

“We are dancing!” Illya giggled. “Ah, ‘Poleon, you dance divinely!”

“You’re not doing too badly yourself, for someone who’s drugged out of his mind,” Napoleon commented, still trying to lead Illya to the bedroom.

“Ahh, Dorogoy! You are too, too kind!”

He threw his arms around Napoleon, hugging him close. In spite of himself, Napoleon smiled and hugged Illya back. After all the times this had happened in the past, taking care of a drugged Illya was second-nature. And it was far easier for him than if the situation had been reversed; a drugged Napoleon had boundless energy and usually was very difficult to keep up with, much to Illya’s exasperation. A drugged Illya was far easier to look after.

“Just hang in there, Tovarisch,” he said, encouragingly. “You’ll be back to your old self soon—before you know it!”

“Ahh… Thank you, ‘Poleon!”

He relaxed in Napoleon’s hold at last, and Napoleon gently took Illya to the bedroom and placed him in bed.

“Goodnight, Tovarisch,” he said, exhaustedly crawling into bed with him. “At least you’ll be normal again soon.”

Until then, he would hold his partner close and continue to look after him.

It was what they did best.


End file.
